The Deal
by M.R. Potter
Summary: Hermione is engaged to Ron, but she and Sirius somehow they establish that they were to have an affair right before Hermione is to marry Ron. It seems like the ideal arrangement, sex without commitment and no drama. But does it really happen?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Not my characters, but the plotline is mine. Enjoy!

Chapter One – The Deal

"Here's to married bliss Hermione," Sirius said, raising his nth glass of Firewhisky. It was expensive, just like everything else in his newly renovated home. No longer did it resemble the baroque grandeur of his childhood; it now had a modern London townhouse charm to it. Scores of visitors came in and out now, filling the house with more laughter and happiness that ever before. Dinner was never a fixed number; Sirius was so used now to random people popping up for dinner that he had taken over cooking duties entirely, giving Kreacher evenings off. It had grated at the old house-elf at first, but when Sirius mentioned that he could do whatever he liked, he had taken up his old hobby of tatting. Sirius had never seen so many fresh doilies around the house.

Hermione had surprised him that night however, by just turning up. She never came over unannounced, even if Sirius told her that she could. He made her dinner and now they were in his study enjoying a drink together.

They decided to drink to her being newly engaged to Ron, after nearly six years of being together. After Voldemort, there was no question of their feelings for each other and they had indeed made up for lost time over their courtship. Ron had popped the question about a week ago and of course everybody knew she would say yes. Yet, a niggling feeling remained in her.

He put the glass to his lips and took a sip, noticing that Hermione remained silent. "Why so quiet? Isn't it what you want?" he asked.

Her head was bowed, tilted to the side. Her glass was still in her lap, the amber liquid remaining untouched. "Why they call it that, I wonder," she mused. "Isn't it a lifetime of spending your waking moments with the one you love, living happily ever after and all that jazz?" he asked.

"Exactly, but it makes you wonder why there aren't that many happy marriages these days," she replied, finally sipping at her drink. Sirius did not miss how she didn't wince at the burning liquor; weaker wizards usually stayed away from the stuff.

He reached between them to pick up the crystal decanter between them and tilted it towards his glass. "You want to know a secret?" he asked. She looked at him, surprised. Sirius had no secrets, as far as she was concerned. He told her everything, from every escapade during his Hogwarts days to the last sexual conquest, often in lurid detail.

But what the heck. She knew enough about him not to be surprised anymore. "Go on. I've had enough to drink to not care about what you tell me," she said, preferring her class for a refill. He obliged, and with the most casual air mentioned, "I nearly got married once,"

Maybe she didn't know everything. "You? Married? Hell must have had a cold snap that day," she mused, leaning back in surprise. Sirius chuckled. Oh, she always knew what to say to make him laugh. "Nothing so dramatic, I'm afraid. She was someone I met at the Ministry, Venus Whippleworthy. Old family friend, one of the few people I could tolerate and talk to during those boring Pureblood get-togethers."

"I was fresh out of Hogwarts then. I was working as an intern at the Department of the Care and Control of Magical Creatures while she was the new secretary for the Junior Secretary of the Department of International Relations. She'd pass by my desk on the way to the kitchen for tea so of course I'd follow her there. In time, the kitchen proved to be more than just heating up the jug," he added with a devious wink. Hermione knew better than to indulge him; it was just part of his womanising charm. "I think we've established a long time ago that you have a penchant for quickies in public areas. I'd hate to think about the health codes you two violated in that kitchen," she shuddered.

"Oh there was plenty of violating going on in there, just not of the health code sort," he smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Then what happened?"

"Then, nothing. I asked her to marry me and she said no. Said that I was good for a fun time but she wasn't of the marrying mind when I asked. A few months later she was pregnant with the baby of my boss. And then I got conveniently arrested and sent to Azkaban, so thirteen years was quite a while to forgive and forget," he finished. "Last I heard her youngest had just gotten out of Hogwarts," he added, as an afterthought.

Hermione let a breath out. "I would never have thought that I'd hear about how there was one woman in this world who would say no to you," she said, taking a sip. Sirius nodded. "It wasn't such a big loss really; I just assumed that asking someone to marry you came after dating. Now that I think about it, we probably would have driven each other up the wall after the first six months,"

"Huh. And the point of this was?" Hermione asked. "The point is kitten, is that we are hardly ever fully informed about our partners until after the honeymoon period. We go into marriage thinking that we are getting what we want when in reality, we are just settling for what we think is best at the moment. Some of us escape that trap while others are meant to be bound in unholy matrimony to the biggest mistake of their lives," he said, with a rather poetic finish.

Oh how he had hit the nail on the head. Hermione couldn't even answer him. She had fallen into a comfortable routine with Ron, one that could be easily predicted. It had never occurred to her to break up with him and look for someone who excited. If it wasn't broken, why fix it, she had always told herself.

"I've touched a nerve there, haven't I?" Sirius observed. Hermione slowly nodded, not meeting his gaze. He reached over and patted her knee. "Go on, tell me about it," he nudged.

"A little more liquid courage, I think," she said, offering her glass. As he filled it, she started. "I just wonder sometimes if there is more to a relationship than dirty briefs on the floor and unwashed porridge bowls in the kitchen sink," she said, taking a deep sip as soon as the glass was filled.

Sirius raised an eyebrow but let her continue. "Is it supposed to be comfortable Sirius? Waking up to mornings knowing that Ron's asleep next to you and that he will be asleep when you crawl into bed at night? And knowing that that routine will never be broken?" she asked.

"Comfortable is for oldies like me. We like routine because it's stable and takes a helluva lot less energy," he answered. "But at your age, you should be looking at fiery, passionate, can't-keep-your-hands-off-each-other horny…all of that. Don't you have that with Ron?"

She shook her head and took another sip. "We were like that at first, but now it's just, well, comfortable. Nothing to shake things up. I know everything about Ron and he can very nearly tell when I'm on my period."

"I commend him, no man should ever be expected to tell when a woman's on that time of the month. It smacks of complete and utter submission," Sirius sagely nodded. He noticed her about to counter that when he raised a hand. "Answer me this Hermione: how are things in the bedroom?"

At this point, Hermione had indulged in enough Firewhisky to not care anymore. "You could set an alarm to it."

Sirius inwardly chuckled and then pursed his lips together. A silence fell, the clink of glass the only sound between them. "I think you need a little excitement in your life Hermione. Just to be sure that you know what you're getting into," he said.

She waved a dismissing hand. "I've tried everything with Ron. Whips, costumes and blindfolds. Nothing's new anymore," she said.

Sirius' face was stony as he leaned his forearms on his lap towards her. "I wasn't suggesting it with Ron,"

That caught her attention. "I don't understand," was all she could say.

"I'm suggesting that you experience what it should and could be. With me,"

When she didn't answer he went on. "It doesn't have to be anything; just you and me having a discreet affair before you get married. I'd hate to see you missing out just because you decide to settle for being comfortable with Ron."

"Are you suggesting I cheat on my fiancée?" she demanded.

"Technically, yes. And I know you want to," he said. Hermione could not deny him this, but she was still outraged. She stood up and started collecting her things, wobbling a little all the way. Sirius stood to grab her arms gently, forcing her to stop moving. "Get your hands off me Sirius, I mean it," she hissed.

"Like you mean you're happy when you tell people you're engaged?" he said, looking her straight in the eye. She couldn't move and was forced to meet his gaze. Those scrutinising grey eyes bore through all her arguments, leaving a large gaping hole in her reasoning.

"I won't force you Hermione, but neither will I allow you to go on unhappy and unfulfilled. Consider it a wedding present," he whispered in her ear. Oh how his Firewhisky-scented breath lured her. His breath tickled the hollow beneath her ear and goosebumps started in her arms.

She wanted it. By gods, did she want it. She had always secretly wondered what sleeping with Sirius would be like, after hearing about all those women and what they got up to. He certainly looked like he would satisfy a woman, all lean muscle and smouldering sex appeal. Sex with Ron was no longer fulfilling; most of the time it felt like just another chores. And Sirius was somewhat right; she did want to feel passion and urgency again, at least one more time before going back to a lifetime of routine.

Funny that. Her whole life was structured around schedules and lists but this proposal of breaking the rules sounded most tantalising.

If it's not broken, why fix it?

Fuck that. "Nobody can find out," she whispered.

"We'll be two steps ahead of everybody, something a brainiac like you can handle," he smiled, inwardly cracking open another Firewhisky at her acquiescence. She looked up at him. "It's over when I say it's over. And no drama or commitment," she went on. "Sounds like a perfect deal, I suggest you stop," he teased, nuzzling her neck.

"And you have to promise not to criticise," she finished, putting her arms around Sirius' waist and tilting her head back to allow him better access. "I promise," he breathed against her neck.

"Then we have an accord," she said. "Shall we seal it with a kiss?" Sirius asked, drawing back to look at her, a faint smile on his lips.

"Cheesy, Sirius," she said, smiling back but kissing him lightly anyway. It felt like electricity and she immediately stepped back.

"That's that then. I'll see you on Friday?" she breathed, pulling on her coat.

"Friday it is," he grinned, amused. She pulled out a pinch of Floo powder and stepped towards the fireplace. She opened her mouth to say something but decided on saying, "Good night you," before disappearing in a cloud of green flame.

Sirius watched the embers glow in the fire and wondered if he was making a mistake by propositioning her. He was after all, older and therefore responsible for them both. His gut however told him that he was doing the right thing, that it was just as much Hermione's decision as it was his. He was doing her a favour, he said. And he would finally be getting what he wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys! I didn't want to write this initially but after seeing what you all thought of it made me bring it further. This story is a case of art imitating life. An actual situation inspired me and it just so happened that Hermione and Sirius fit the players in this game perfectly.

And here is Chapter Two – enjoy!

Again, the characters are not mine but the plotline is.

Chapter Two – Awakening

The week passed on a turtle's pace for Hermione. She had a job working at the Ministry of Magic as a head researcher in the Spells Division. Incomplete paperwork piled on her desk, as she could not concentrate enough to finish it at her regular pace. Even her boss noticed that she was lagging way behind at her job. He intercepted her on her way to the kitchen for yet another mug of tea, asking what was keeping her.

"I know that I asked for that report on the hybrid spells just a few days ago, but I'm sure that normally you would have produced it within the week," he admonished. She didn't really hear him, just snippets of words. "I'll work on it now Jerry, and I'll try to have it done by the end of the week," she automatically replied.

Jerry was not to be appeased. He waved a hand in front of her face. "Is something wrong, Miss Granger? I know that you're much more motivated than this. Is it something to do with your engagement?" he asked.

If only he knew. Ever since Sirius put forth that ridiculous proposition over the weekend she could not stop thinking about her decision and what lay ahead. She constantly berated herself for accepting it, saying that she didn't even deserve a fiancée if all she was going to do was cheat on him. But then a voice that sounded very much like Sirius' told her that she was never going to be happy if she kept denying herself. It was human nature after all, to desire and to feel passion. What wrong was she doing, if not being human?

We're way too evolved for that kind of reasoning. Darwin made damned sure of that, Hermione would scold herself. Whatever you say. But you know he's right, the voice would say right back.

"Yes Jerry. Just a little preoccupied with things at the moment, I haven't had a moments rest after the engagement," she lied, going along with what he suggested. He considered her for a moment and then waved her off. "Go on Hermione, work on that report. I expect it on my desk by Friday," he said before letting her go on to the kitchen for her tea.

When she knew she was alone, she put her hands on the bench and hung her head between her arms. She didn't know whether to dread Friday or not, but now that she had this report to turn in she had no choice but to face it head on.

Just one time. Go for an adventure before being blissfully wedded to the rock steady constant in your life, she told herself.

Friday, 5pm

_What on earth do you wear to something like this?_ Hermione frantically asked herself for the third time in a minute. Clothes were strewn on her bed as she walked around in her hold up stockings, bra and panties. A slacks and blouse ensemble was too stiff, while a skirt and cardigan was a little Mrs. Robinson.

She had just gotten home from work. Her report was finally finished and sitting in its manila folder on Jerry's desk but that was hardly a victory for her. It was just one thing out of the way before she could go to 12 Grimmauld Place. She Apparated home, but on this day she wished that she had driven because it could afford her more time to think.

Time was not a luxury she had today, because she heard a faint POP come from outside her bedroom door followed by a short knock.

"Hermione? I know you're in there," a voice said.

She stood still, quite frankly frozen from the shock. Sirius was standing outside her door. Her jaw was slack and her voice somehow worked itself into a little squeak. "I'm uh…" she began when the door partly opened. A dark head poked itself in, revealing a healthy head of black hair and inquisitive grey eyes. "Appropriately dressed," he grinned, his gaze luxuriating over Hermione in her underwear.

Her face blazed red as she had forgotten that she was still in her underwear. She began reaching for her dressing gown hung on the back of the door when Sirius stepped in and closed the door behind him, effectively blocking access to her dressing gown.

"What are you, nuts? What if Ron was home?" she hissed at him.

"He and Harry are currently engaged in a rather alcoholic game of Wizard Chess in my library. I don't think they'll be back for a while," he shrugged. Hermione tried to reach behind him, but he just put his hands on her waist to hold her still. "I couldn't wait for you any longer. I've been going crazy all week thinking about this," he said, looking down at her.

The heat from his hands seared the bare skin on her waist. His hands were just above the line of her panties, his fingers now absentmindedly stroking the skin above. She couldn't reply, not when he was stroking her like that. Her mouth was partially open, searching for words to form.

Sirius didn't miss her apprehension. He put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "You know that you can stop me any time you like. I promise I will," he whispered. Her brown eyes wavered a moment from his and she took a quick inhale. He took this as a yes and bent his head to kiss her. His lips were soft and gentle, soothing more than wanting. He knew that she still had reservations to this arrangement and he wanted to make her as comfortable as he could. Truth be told, he wanted her willing and hot for him as he was for her. He knew that she was going against her own conscience, and knowing her, she was the most morally upright person he knew. This must be killing her, he thought.

The groan that echoed from the back of his mouth said otherwise. Her tongue was now aggressively seeking his, her body arching towards him. He put all thoughts on hold and just focused on the witch seeking him out. Her arms were looped around his neck, and his own hands had somehow crushed her to him. He responded with a fervour he had not remembered in a long time; he was matching her breathy moans with his own.

He broke away to speckle kisses on her face, forehead, eyelids and chin. Each soft kiss was a discovery; she responded particularly when he kissed her between the eyes. Her face was tilted to his, wanting to be kissed again when he brought his face to right below her jaw line. He traced a line from there to right behind her ear where he nibbled on the lobe. She gasped and sagged against him; she couldn't help it. "Gods Sirius, that feels so good," she breathed.

He smiled against her skin. "Wait until I get to the rest of you love."

Sirius lifted her into his arms and walked her over to her bed. He deposited her on top of all her clothes and straddled her hips, looking down at her. She looked ravishing: flushed cheeks, lips swollen and pink from kissing and eyes ever so slightly unfocused. He nuzzled the side of her face. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"Do that thing again with my ear, I like it," she said, looking at him. For a while, he hesitated. There was no trace of apprehension in her face, just sheer pleasure. He felt his chest tighten; how lucky Ron must be, to see her look like this when they made love.

He bent his head again to lick delicately at her ear, and she groaned in response. Her voice threaded into his brain and it went straight to his groin. He traced the inner shell, dipping in and out and swirling his tongue around. He bit at the lobe again and grinned when she moaned his name and arched toward him.

His hands were roaming her body, covering every plane and valley. Her breasts were still encased in her bra, but he ran a hand down her back and with a flick of his fingers unhooked the clasp. He swept his hands beneath the silk to nudge it away from her breasts and his hands met warm, rounded flesh. "You feel so soft love," he whispered. He plucked her nipple between his fingers, smiling when she cried out. He replaced his fingers with his mouth and took the pink point between his lips. It was torture, what he was doing to her, flicking the nub with his tongue. She held his head there, moaning and arching up.

Her legs had somehow found themselves around his waist and he could feel how hot she was at her centre. Sirius reached behind him and hitched her leg higher on his waist, rubbing his hardness against her. His hands came in contact with her stockinged legs, caressing the soft material carefully. He kissed a path down to her hips, and when he reached the hem of her tiny panties he took it between his teeth and snapped it against her skin. It jolted her out of her bliss and she raised her head to look at him. He looked back at her, not saying a word but tilting his head slightly to the side. "Is this alright?" he whispered against her skin. She nodded slowly.

With his hands and teeth he peeled her panties off, inhaling her essence on the way down her legs. He rearranged her legs so they rested on his shoulders and with no warning; he placed his mouth right on her. She gasped his name and clawed at the sheets, not believing that this was happening at all.

Sirius got to work dissolving her. His tongue was everywhere, stroking at her clit and sliding up and down. He teased her entrance by dipping his tongue in and teasing it. When he introduced his fingers, she let out a soundless gasp and twisted beneath him. This was even better than he'd imagined, she was so responsive. She wanted his touch and by gods he was going to give it to her. He curled two fingers around the rough bundle of nerves and started rubbing it vigorously.

Hermione was by no means quiet. She started moaning and cooing, unable to keep quiet anymore. Her hips arched up and down by instinct against his fingers. She couldn't hold on any longer, Sirius could feel her walls clenching down on him. That prodded him to stroke faster and just when she was on the edge he planted his mouth right on her clit and teased her clit with his tongue.

Most girls fall of the edge when they come; Hermione was pushed off and sent plummeting straight into a blissful abyss. Sirius let go of her and let her ride through her orgasm. It was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen and he felt a certain pride knowing that he was capable of doing that to her.

When she had calmed down somewhat, he met her again on the bed and bent his head to kiss her. Hermione could taste herself on his lips and was by no means repulsed. She wanted to kiss him more deeply but that was all that she could manage in her weakened state. It felt good, just laying there and kissing him but she wondered. "What about you Sirius?" she asked, very conscious of the bulge against her thigh.

He stroked her hair away from her face, now rumpled and messy because of his ministrations. "I'll take care of myself love. I don't want to rush you into sex yet," he said, turning her to spoon and against her and nuzzling her ear again. She moaned and turned her face again to expose more of her neck.

"Does that feel good love?" he asked her. "Mm," she breathed. He did it again and enjoyed it when she arched against him. "You have to tell me kitten, I don't want to hurt you," he admonished, for the perverse pleasure of hearing her beg.

"Yes it does!" she whispered. He rewarded her with another kiss. "You have to tell me these things. I want to know what turns you on. How about here?" he asked, kissing at the juncture of her neck and shoulders.

And so they went, Sirius discovering her spots, committing to memory all the places that she liked to be stroked and nuzzled. Inside, he felt like crying thanks to whoever was listening, for giving him the opportunity to be with this goddess and to pleasure her.

Truth be told, he thought that his desire for her was going to wane after this one time, just because he finally obtained what he had always desired but never been able to acquire; Hermione in his bed. On the contrary, he wanted her all the more, not because they hadn't actually had sex but because he wanted to see her arch in pleasure and moan his name when she came. He wanted to pleasure her and to see her craving his touch. It had been a long time since he was this selfless in bed, and feelings he thought were dead were starting to thread their way to the surface.

Hermione cried out again for the hundredth time, and he kissed her hair. If only he could be so sure that Ron was going to be as grateful and as worshipful, was he going to let her go easily.

A/N: I'm going for a road trip with friends for a few days guys, it's summertime here. The next update will be in awhile, but I assure you there will be some development. Besos!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: What a difference a holiday makes! I've been thinking heaps about what to write here and have decided on something new. What do you guys think about Sirius? Does he prickle your interest or does he repulse as a sleazy older man. I'm curious!

Chapter 3 – The Morning After

Hermione read through her note for the third time in a minute. A stunning horned owl had tapped on her window with a rose in its beak and a note tied to its leg. Everyone sighed at the gesture, of course assuming that it was from Ron. Hermione had assumed the same, but the elegant swirly handwriting was definitely not Ron's.

_Hermione,_

_Something to make you smile, since I can't be there to do it myself. _

_S xx_

She felt like someone poured warm syrup over her heart. She couldn't remember the last time Ron had ever sent her flowers, much less wanted to make her smile. She gave the owl part of a biscuit from the tin on her desk and sent it on its way.

After that Friday, Hermione's body had not cooled down. Sirius had awoken something in her, a passionate and carnal creature that wanted more. He had spent ages exploring her body and discovering the areas that made her purr in delight and send her arching against him. She was very nearly embarrassed by herself, were it not for the fact that Sirius delighted in her being so vocal. He urged her on, asking her to tell him where she wanted to be touched the most. It was a sexual awakening, and by gods she wanted to do it all over again.

A niggling feeling lingered however. That night, as she lay next to Ron listening to his snores she wondered if she even deserved to be engaged. In this time and age where relationships were very nearly synonymous to a cheap fuck, she could still find someone who wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. She counted herself lucky, compared to other friends of hers. There's nothing wrong with what you're doing Hermione, you're not married yet, a voice would tell her.

"And blessed be the day that I would stop listening to that voice," she muttered to herself. It was the voice of her reason that often kept her on the right track but it also kept her from enjoying herself. Well it can shut up for now, because I intend to make the most of my last few months as a single lady.

Molly Weasley was a fantastic homemaker – nobody ever doubted that. She made fantastic meals, knew how to make everybody feel right at home and most of all, she was excellent at giving orders. She invited everybody over to the Burrow for dinner one Friday evening, exactly a week since Hermione and Sirius had been together.

Hermione was in the kitchen peeling potatoes while she was thinking exactly that. Her mind was supposed to be on the task at hand but it kept straying to that afternoon of heated caresses and soft moans. Her neck had started to tingle at the mere thought of Sirius showering it with kisses and her breath caught in her chest when she remembered those long, capable fingers stroking her like an instrument. All week, her mind had drifted back to that afternoon and she found herself just as distracted as the week before. She had just prayed that Jerry wouldn't notice and call her out again. It was embarrassing the first time, and she was determined to be more discreet about this affair by not being called out because of her obvious distraction.

"You're going to cut yourself if you're not careful love," a warm caramel voice said from the doorway. Hermione looked up and saw Sirius leaning across the doorframe looking at her. Her heart started pounding like a jackhammer in her chest; he looked so casual and aware of his good looks and it was doing some crazy things to her. "What makes you say that?" she gulped, failing miserably at nonchalance.

"Your hands are doing a fine job, but if your eyes aren't helping they aren't going to be useful for long," he quipped. "Where are you?" he asked, coming to sit across her, waving his hand across her face.

She grinned and tried to bat his hand away. "A thousand miles away I think," she sighed, putting the knife down and the half-peeled potato. A one-sided grin appeared on Sirius' handsome face when he picked up the potato and the knife. He started carving the potato. "I don't think your mind's that far," he said.

"I think it's in a lovely flat in London, in a particular bed room with the most handsome wizard that it has ever had the good luck to process. It's probably remembering all the things that the wizard did to its host body, isn't it?" he said slowly, looking up at her from his work. His fingers never wavered from the job, and in a flash Hermione would have gladly traded places with the potato.

He was turning her on and doing a class-A job, damn it. His voice had started to fall into a husky murmur, the very sound that she imagined over and over again in her head. "Now you're just being ridiculous," she said.

"How so?"

Oh, he was baiting her now was he? Unfortunately for him, he had released her more carnal side last week and it was definitely not afraid to tell him what she wanted. A crazy idea entered her head but it didn't occur to her to push it out.

Her foot slid out of it's shoe and brushed against his ankle. "For one, you're making it sound like you're the best one I've ever been with. And we both know that's not true," she said, looking at him from below her eyelashes.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, feeling her toes brush against his shin. "Isn't it?"

"No, not at all. You're on the list though, just somewhere at the bottom," she said. Sirius clenched his jaw; he knew that she was bullshitting but somehow he felt compelled to dig further. "How far down?"

Her foot skated past his shin and grazed his knee lightly. "Far enough. Number one was a South African I met while on an international conference in Africa. Whole new meaning to the phrase 'call of the wild'," she smiled.

"Number two was a French figure skater. There's a lot to be said for the ability to do a triple axle."

Sirius put the potato he was peeling down. He reached down to grab her ankle and gently tease the arch of her foot. "Dare I ask what number three is?" he asked.

"A devastatingly handsome wizard who knows his way around a woman's body. But I suppose all that expertise came with a fair amount of practice so I can't say I'm completely thrilled," she shrugged.

He relaxed. "Well then. I guess being number 3 isn't so bad."

She flexed her foot, barely brushing against his crotch. "Who said I was talking about you? I was talking about Remus." she grinned, more mischievous than teasing.

Oh he had had enough. He released her foot, bent over the table and captured her mouth in a punishing kiss. His hand came to hold her head to his. "You must have a death wish kitten," he mumbled into her mouth.

"Don't bait me unless you want to be tortured slowly and painfully," he said. Her hands cupped his face. "Remus is a far better kisser," she whispered.

Sirius nipped her bottom lip. "And he does the most amazing thing with his tongue," she added, swirling her tongue with his.

Potatoes be damned, Sirius came around to her side of the table and sat her on the edge. Her legs came to wrap around his waist pulling him closer. "Go on," he said, reaching in between them to undo her zip.

Just as she opened her mouth to tell him something else, Ron called from the lounge. "Hermione, Mum wants to know when the potatoes will be finished! And if Sirius is in there with you, could you ask him to come out and help with the barbeque?"

A painful jolt shocked through her passion-addled consciousness. What the hell was she doing, kissing Sirius not twenty feet away from her fiancée and from everybody else? She pulled away from him, got to her feet and patted herself into decency. "The potatoes will be done in a minute," she said, her voice still shaking.

Sirius was still breathing heavily but he was looking straight at her. "I'll be right out," he called. "Hermione look," he began reaching out to cup her face. "Sirius, I don't know what I'm doing with you," she said, moving to turn away.

"I know that. And I'll bet that scares you to death, not knowing what you're doing," he said. "But you know that you can end this right now if you want to. I promise I won't make it difficult. In fact, I will not even kiss you goodbye," he said, looking straight at her mouth.

She looked up at him, thinking it over. "Soon. Just not yet," she decided, more to herself than to Sirius. He kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair. "Alright. Remember, it's your call,"

He reached behind her and presented her the potato he had been carving, a perfectly-shaped rosebud. He left her leaning against the kitchen table while he walked out to help Molly with the barbeque.

As the door was left swinging back and forth on its hinge, Hermione wondered how long she could keep this up, if at all. There were so many reasons not to do it, but she knew that denying herself would only result in frustration. Who says being selfish has to be a bad thing, she thought.

"Hermione love, the potatoes?" Ron asked, poking his head in to look at her. The expression in his face was so warm and tender, as it always was when he looked at her. She managed a weak smile. "Can I ask you to help me please?" she requested.

"Absolutely love," he smiled, settling himself on the other side of the table.

As she settled back to the task on hand she glanced at Ron, who was humming to himself. He looked so solid and safe, reliable and secure.

So why did she grasp the rosebud potato so closely in her hand?

A/N: So sorry for the delay loves. Got caught up with packing and going on holiday. I type this to you now from the comforts of my own bedroom after being away from home for nearly a year. Hope you're all having a wonderful summer.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hi guys, thank you for the reviews so far. I am happy to report that most of you are not repulsed by Sirius, thank goodness.

In this chapter, we are introduced to the kind of relationship Ron and Hermione have. The plot thickens! As usual, I do not own any of the characters or the Harry Potter world created by J. K. Rowling. I merely own the plot.

Chapter Four – A Deuce

Sirius lay Hermione on her kitchen counter, kissing her passionately. His lips caressed her face and throat while his fingers made quick work of the buttons on her shirt. He drew back for a moment to look at her, this beautiful brown-haired goddess laying on her back, seeking his touch. It was the living embodiment of all his fantasies, that Hermione would desire him. He would have looked at her more, had she not yanked him by the shirtfront to her.

Her mouth devoured his. She needed his kiss like an opium addict sought his next fix. Their tongues danced together in a seductive beat, and she couldn't get enough of his touch. She arched her back to him, melding them together into one. He ran his hand into the gap between her back and the counter and held him to her.

"Hermione, I have something for you," he whispered into her mouth. She broke away to look at him. "Can't it wait? I've been wanting this all week," she breathed.

He grinned at her eagerness but drew back. He reached into his back pocket and pulled something out. "Had the feeling you were wanting to go to this,"

Hermione's attention was swayed when she saw the tickets in his hand. The green colour and the lettering could not be mistaken for anything else in the world. "You have tickets to _Wicked_?" she gasped, sitting upright and taking them from him.

"Prime seats too," he grinned, looking at her reaction.

The tickets were grasped in her hand, and in her eyes was a look of pure joy and disbelief. It thrilled him to see her so happy, but it was merely icing on the cake when he realised his plan was following through so far. He intended to make an evening of it, take her to dinner before seeing a musical that she wanted, have a few drinks afterwards and then seduce her for their first night together.

It had never occurred to him however, how much planning and effort he had put into this, considering that he had never done it before. Wining and dining a woman did not come to him naturally, as most women were more than willing to forego that stage and go straight to bed with him. Hermione was different however. She was all class, and deserved to be treated like a lady. He bet Ron never did the same with her.

"Sirius, I can't take this," she said, extending him back to him but he pushed her hand back to her. "Take them, I know you've been wanting to see it ever since Ginny let you listen to the soundtrack on her iPod. Go see them with someone special," he said, looking at her, smoulder in his gaze.

It wouldn't be fair to Ron to disarm her so quickly, so he did nothing more but claim her lips with a kiss. He could sense that she had a question in her mind but he wasn't of the right mind to answer it. He kissed her firmly, pouring all his intent into the kiss. He knew that she still was not ready to take their affair to the next step. As much as he wanted to charm her into succumbing at the very moment, he knew that the victory would be that much sweeter when she fell into his arms of her own accord.

*****

A few weeks later, Hermione was seated at her dresser choosing earrings to go with her outfit. Her head was tilted to the side as she held up a pair of drop earrings. They were extravagant, a present from Ron for one of her birthdays. They were a cascade of little diamonds that threw facets of light onto her face. It did go well with her halter neck dress but the pair seemed old, clichéd. What was wrong with going for the diamond studs sitting next to them on the jewellery case?

She set down the drop earrings and held up the studs. They were far simpler and made her look much younger. Ron came out of their bathroom with his dress shirt half on and buttoned, his slacks the same. He had bare feet. His red hair was a towel-dried mess and he looked absolutely clueless as to what came next.

"Hermione, help me," he asked. He looked helpless, a rumpled mess. A fiery image of Sirius expertly getting dressed for an evening out shot through her mind before she tamped it down. She could not imagine Sirius asking for help getting dressed at all. Sirius was more mature than that. It was an ugly comparison, she knew. She pushed it out of her head and stood up.

"You're a big boy Ron, you can do it yourself," she said, not really thinking. Almost instantly, she wished she could take it back. It was as if she had asked him to stop having dinner with her.

Ron's face set into confusion and hurt. He didn't know how to reply to that except to say, "I guess you're right." He turned into their wardrobe and began choosing a tie. Her heart felt a twinge of guilt and regret. She knew how much they both loved the routine, but it all seemed like a lifetime ago, when she didn't feel trapped by it.

It felt like kicking a puppy, watching him try and button the cuffs on his shirt by himself and then struggle with getting the knot on his (badly-matched) tie to just the right length. She clipped the studs in and moved to help him. She reached a hand out to help straighten out his jacket, but he pulled away.

"No, I'll do it," he said. She bit her lower lip. Gods, what a bitch she was turning into. How on earth could she even start comparing Sirius to Ron? "Ron, it's uneven on the lapels, I'll straighten it," she said when he pulled away again.

"It's okay. Nobody's going to notice anyway," he said, trying to smile at her and concealing his hurt. Ron never showed that he was hurt, or at least tried to. She wanted so badly to take back what she said and help him get dressed but it would have hurt his pride more than her refusal to help him.

"You look beautiful Hermione, I don't know how anybody is going to concentrate on the show tonight," he grinned, albeit half-heartedly. "Thanks Ron," she smiled back, the other half of his smile.

He helped her into her coat and held the door open for her as they stepped out of their apartment together. There was a mirror in the hallway, and Hermione took a look before walking down the stairs. The studs went nicely with her dress, accenting the length of her neck and the curve of her face. They were a gift from Sirius for her getting promoted at work.

*****

Sirius sat glumly in the cavernous study of 12 Grimmauld Place. Everything he had hoped tonight would be had all gone to custard. Ever since he had purchased the tickets he had thrown himself into making an unforgettable evening of it. As he sat there, there was a room upstairs with a hundred sputtering candles surrounding a grand four-poster bed dressed with silk sheets. A bottle of champagne was icing in a bucket next to the bed and there was a velvet blindfold draped over one of the pillows. All of it would have to go to waste.

Hermione had chosen to go with Ron. She had owled earlier in the evening him telling him that she wanted to take Ron to the theatre with her and that she hoped he understood. There was no way that he understood, really. It was her favourite musical, he was going to be her date and he intended to fully seduce her.

Granted, it was Hermione, the paragon of morality and goodness. Despite this dalliance, she had the most integrity out of all the people he knew. She must have wanted this brief affair badly enough to go against her morals, he thought. So why was she balking at his advances?

Because that's what affairs are about, you fool. You use each other, and then you leave. No emotional attachments. No drama. Just a quick detour before continuing on to your main destination. Or destiny, however you chose to look at it. Either way, there was no real justification to his anger and jealousy. He simply was upset that Hermione chose to go to the musical with Ron over him.

And there was the real twist. Since Hermione had graduated from Hogwarts, she had truly come into her own. She had grown out of her nerdy exterior and with much thanks to Ginny, had begun experimenting with reconciling herself with what she really wanted to look like. Gone were the unruly and overgrown curls that hid her face; in their place were well-tamed waves that sparked his imagination when he envisioned them after a tumble in bed. She had filled out, with curves in all the right places. Ron and Harry sometimes teased her about being chubby, but she knew that they both appreciated the fact that she liked food and didn't want to be a pin. She was a lovely woman, and Ron was a lucky man to have her.

It wasn't just her looks that drew him to her either; her mind was a force of its own. He loved to trade barbs with her just to see her eyes flash with a challenge. They could talk about anything, and she would gladly listen to him on topics she knew little about. Her intelligence was refreshing, unlike the Barbie dolls he had dated in the past. All shell and no filling, was what he thought of them.

A log crackled in the fireplace and split apart. Sirius sighed and looked into the depths of the dancing flames again. He could imagine Hermione wearing a little black dress, maybe with heels. Her hair would be in an elegant updo and she would smell like vanilla. For the nth time that night, he sighed at Ron's luck. Ron would be the one to undo that updo and run his fingers through her hair. Ron would be the one to unzip Hermione out of her dress and maybe rub her sore feet for her. Ron would probably be the one to make love to Hermione that night, not him.

*****

The little black dress was little more than a dark pool on the floor with a pair of heels and stockings littering around it. Dark loafers and slacks made a trail up to a large king-sized bed where two figures were still struggling with the debris of the rest of Ron's clothing. Hermione was laying on the bed in just her underwear, letting Ron kiss her. Her fingers moved automatically, tugging at his shirt and undoing buttons. All of them motions. None of them done with true intent.

It was a good evening between the two of them. The musical had been everything she had ever dreamed of, singing along to the music and sighing at the set design. Ron had taken her for a midnight snack and after a little flirting they had gone back home where Ron proceeded to make love to her. Hermione knew what would happen of course; from the first time they had sex to the last time about a month ago she had formed an invariable pattern of how they made love. First they kissed, then he got distracted by her breasts, then she'd push him off and take over. It was all so foreseeable, she thought. She could very nearly predict where he'd put his hands next. Sirius would never let that happen.

Gods, listen to me, she thought. Even in bed, I'm comparing Sirius to Ron. Why can't I leave it?

Ron's lips dipped tenderly into the hollow beneath her ear, and she wriggled beneath him in a moan. That had felt unexpectedly good and she arched her body towards him for more. "Again," she found herself breathing, before she realised that she would only dare request that from Sirius. She froze, expecting Ron to question it when he bent lower and caressed that spot again. A fire bolt of sensation shot through her body. "Like that?" he asked in her ear.

She inhaled, new courage seeping into her. He did not object to being told what to do. "Yes, more please," she whispered back, daring to hope that he might do it again.

Ron's tongue slipped out and he traced the shell of her ear, blowing gently. She let out a guttural moan and turned her head to kiss him on the cheek. Gods, what a mess she was in now. Her conscience was at war with the delicious sensations pouring through her now.

Ron's kiss drifted lower to caress that sensitive spot at the base of her neck. Her back arched again and she cried out. "Hmm…," Ron grinned, humming into her skin. He kissed her again, wet and with long, lapping strokes. He was torturing her, and he loved it knowing that he was in such control over her.

Hermione had her eyes closed, very nearly seeing Sirius' strong form hovered over her expertly torturing her the way Ron was. If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost smell Sirius, his strong feral scent layered with the intoxicating top note of Firewhisky and leather. But when she opened her eyes, she saw Ron, pale and freckled with eyes half-closed, worshipping her form.

With a moan, Hermione turned them over so she was straddling Ron. She bent over so she spoke into his ear, "Let me," she purred. She tried to tell herself that she was compensating for pushing him away earlier but there was something in the way that she kissed a path from his earlobe down to his chest that spoke of much more than that. There were feelings in her that she couldn't express in words, feelings that only came out when she was with Sirius. But she was thinking of Sirius, wasn't she?

Ron sensed something wrong and he sat up. "Hermione, stop," he said. She opened her eyes and saw that Ron was trying to get her to sit up too. "What's gotten into you?" he asked, stroking her hair away from her face.

"What do you mean?" she asked, half-frozen. Did he know?

"You're…different. First you push me away, and then you draw me back in. Is there something wrong?" he asked, studying her brown eyes. A lesser woman would have cowered in guilt and in fear but Hermione knew that she was more in control than that. She couldn't jeopardise the fantasy that she was actually living, so she settled for a diversion. "Don't you like it?" she asked, tilting her head and nibbling his lip in the way that he loved.

He pulled back. "I'm not complaining, I just want to know what brought it on," he said. Her breath came slowly as she searched her mind for a good one. "If you don't like it, then I'll stop," she said, moving off him when Ron pulled her back to him. He buried his mouth in her neck. "Come back here you. I didn't say I didn't like it," he murmured before claiming her neck.

Hermione let him go on without any more interruptions. There was no blocking him out completely, even when she had Sirius firmly planted in her mind. This was Ron, her fiancée. No amount of concentration would ever block that out. But there was also Ron's sweetness, his eagerness to please her. Even in his hurt, he still loved her enough to want to make love. Emotions ran high in her, making a quick loop through her brain in a futile exercise in silencing the voice in her head.

_You can only have one, _it said_. The one that makes you burn hotter than the sun or the one that loves you as if it rises and sets in your eyes?_

A/N: Hello loves! Hope you all have had a wonderful Christmas and New Year, with no drunken injuries or indigestion. Have you ever been in the same position Hermione was in? Tell me! And who do you think she should be with?


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hello everybody! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews you've written and the insights that you've given. You have all given sufficient reason for Hermione to be with both of them, but of course we all know that there can only be one. At this point, I'm making it all up as I'm going along because since this story is based on actual events there has been no resolution yet to the real-life inspiration of this story.

This chapter is based on the amazeballs Kings of Leon song "Notion". So while you're reading this, have this song in mind because it will describe the chapter quite well.

Disclaimer: When was any of this mine? Never was, never will be. Except for the plotline. Enjoy the chapter!

*****

Sirius was walking around Diagon Alley, feeling the warm sun on his face. It was a luxury that he reveled in, especially after his time in Azkaban. Never again would he take sunshine for granted, one of the few joys he had left that were free. He passed by the usual standbys, Florean Fortescue's, Madam Malkin's for robes and Olivander's shop. It was under new management now, but Olivander's apprentice hadn't the heart to change the name. Times have changed, but so much remains the same.

He needed to get out of the house, clear his mind a little bit and regroup. Things with Hermione were getting a little too close for comfort. It had been a week since the musical and he hadn't seen Hermione since. She was too busy with preparations for her engagement party, she said. She had friends coming over from Spain and Korea and she wanted to make sure they all had a place to stay. She also had flowers and caterers to deal with, and she just didn't have the time for him at the moment. _Maybe after the party_? she had asked.

At least she isn't saying no yet, he mused. This little affair turned out to be more than him doing her a service. He wanted desperately to conquer her and have her, if only to get her out of his mind. She was the only woman who he ever felt challenged by. The fact that he wasn't winning made his teeth grind and his body tense when he remembered that he didn't have her.

There was the problem however. Hermione was not his to own and conquer because she belonged to somebody else. Somebody else who did not realise what a gift and blessing she was, what a truly beautiful and strong woman she was. She made him ache, made him jolt awake at night with dreams that burned him alive. He was slowly losing sleep over her, thinking about how fleeting their time together was.

Gods, he needed a drink. The Leaky Cauldron had just opened for the day, and he could even see Tom opening up the bar. It was eleven o'clock after all, as his silver pocket watch informed him. Ah well. It must be five o'clock somewhere.

He entered the establishment, shrugging off his exquisite black sports jacket. "Morning Tom," he said, nodding towards the balding bartender. "Eh? Sirius Black, when was the last time I saw you in here before six pm? You, James and Remus were my favourite customers!" he laughed. Sirius grinned, remembering when all of them would take off from their various jobs or internships in the afternoon for a drink. Tom knew them well, and had been a while since he had seen any of the Marauders.

"Spent a good time rotting away in Azkaban, and then a few more years suspended in a Veil. I'd say life is good," Sirius lazily smiled, toasting Tom with the pint he had slid across the bar to him. "Everybody wants a good whinge Sirius but you're the only one who toasts to the unfairness of life. Always knew you were a strong lad," Tom said, wiping the glass.

A shadow crossed the bar, and Sirius turned his head. The sun's shadow darkened the figure, but the way it swayed he could never mistake for anybody else.

"Why hello Venus," he said, tilting his head in greeting. The exquisite blonde, though more mature than he remembered, still made his heart jump in his chest. She never lost her raw appeal, with her sunshine hair and cerulean eyes, and Sirius was surprised to see her.

"Sirius. Sirius Black," Venus recalled in a husky voice. "What brings you here?" she asked. She nodded at Tom, which prompted him to pour her a light ale. "A man is entitled to keep company with his thoughts once in a while. Sometimes his memories too," he said, looking at her over his mug as he had a sip. "It's been ages since I last saw you. You were still at the Ministry," he said, more than referring to her indiscretion with his boss. He waited for her response.

"I don't even get a proper greeting from you Sirius, how ungentlemanly," she laughed, accepting her drink from Tom. "You can't still be mad at me for that Sirius. It has been nearly twenty five years, more by my reckoning," she chastised, taking a sip. "I'm not mad Venus. I forgave you a long time ago. I just want to know why. Wasn't I good enough for you?" he asked.

She laughed, a throaty chuckle. At the very moment, she seemed much older, more knowledgeable about the ways of the world than he was. "Oh Sirius darling, it wasn't that. I was thrilled that we were engaged, but I had spent too much time with you so I knew what you were really like. You were fiery, yes. Passionate. Handsome. Above all, you were rich. A girl like me sought security first before anything else. But Richard, my husband now, your former boss, knew how to make me feel like I was the most beautiful girl in the world. I was just one girl among many to you, and now that I think about it, you probably just proposed to me because you felt that it was the next thing to do."

"I don't regret getting pregnant like I did Sirius, but I do regret not explaining to you why. Richard does not have your looks, your money or your charm, but he knew I was something special. A part of me is proud for having known the difference between a lifetime of financial security or one where I knew I was truly and deeply loved. Another part regrets that it was at your expense, but I am happy and I shouldn't have to apologise," she finished.

Sirius was quiet for a while. In all the time that he had thought about how his relationship with Venus had gone sour, he never once considered why she might have done it. From her words, he felt like she had hit the nail on the head. Of course he proposed to her, but he had never really loved her. "When you're that young, you don't realise that there is the option of breaking up when you've been in a relationship like ours," he mused, more to himself than to Venus.

She moved closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "I am happy with my life Sirius. My youngest daughter Virginia just got out of Hogwarts and she wants to be a Healer at St. Mungo's. I have a husband who loves me and looks at me like the moon waxes and wanes at my command. We might not be rich, but I am safe knowing that I have what I do," she said. Sirius remained quiet.

"I am surprised you remained single all these years, especially since you were notorious for getting over breakups quickly. Dare I hope that I have spoiled you for somebody else?" she asked.

Sirius finished his drink in a single gulp. He exhaled through his mouth, steadying the nerves that were jumping beneath his skin. He turned his face to Venus' expectant and curious one and smiled. "No Venus. You just left me available for somebody else," he said. He picked her hand off his shoulder and kissed it. "Thank you, for not letting me make the same mistake again," he said, with all the charm of his younger years.

"You're welcome Sirius. Now go, I will take it as a personal insult if you stuff this one up," she smiled, raising her lager to his back as he grabbed his jacket and strode out the door.

*****

"I never thought I'd see the day where you'd consent to dress like the flash aristocrat you are," Remus said, buttoning up his shirt. The pair was getting dressed for Hermione's sit-down engagement party at Grimmauld Place, after Sirius had browbeaten her to holding it there. The whole morning he had been holed up in his study while he heard the sounds of the caterers and the florists echo from downstairs while they were setting up the grand ballroom for the evening.

Sirius tugged on the silver bowtie sitting across his harsh black shirt. "You make it sound like I was gone an eon," he lazily said.

"You were. Ten years is a long time to be behind the Veil," Remus admonished, turning around to face his friend lounging lazily in a leather chair. "So I was temporarily suspended between the dimensions of Time and Space for a decade, but surely that hasn't affected much change in everybody around us," Sirius argued.

"Not necessarily so Sirius. It might have retarded your ability to age, that whole suspension business, but the rest of us have had to abide by the rules of Nature. Waistlines have fluctuated, hairlines have crept up, all of the normal occurrences of aging," Remus said, checking his reflection in the mirror. Sirius chuckled. "I'd say your waistline has remained the same, at least since fifth year. Your hairline now looks like the beach at low tide though."

The jab was not taken lying down. "And you have the look of a leering old pervert around the eyes," Remus calmly said.

"Speaking of being a leering old pervert, how have the young ones been?"

Remus turned around to face his friend, eyebrows held up in surprise. "I haven't thought of them as the young ones for quite a while now. You know how Harry and Ron have been; Harry's now the Seeker for England while Ron was in training with Charlie in Romania. Seems to have taken quite an interest in dragons ever since Hagrid brought back that Chinese Fireball to study," he recounted.

"Hermione, how has she been?" Sirius asked.

"Miss Granger may as well have been recalled from the dead as you were Sirius. She's worked in Madrid for the past ten years as a liaison officer between the Ministry of Magic here and in Spain. We hadn't seen her in a long time, but everybody here owls her as frequently as if she lived right next door. She and Ron have had a long-distance relationship over the years; they got together when they were in their seventh year."

"Hermione came back to England last year to work, as the Ministry has reassigned her here. The rest I'm sure you were here for," Remus said, referring to her recent engagement.

Sirius didn't answer right away. He had always remembered Hermione as a bushy-haired swot who had no people skills to accompany her intellect. He also recalled several occasions of her bossing Harry and Ron around, often with them grumbling in the wake. What he remembered most of all however, was how much she disapproved of him.

"I know about you and Hermione," he said, turning to face his friend. Sirius expected a vehement denial and even anger and probing into such an intimate detail, so he was puzzled when Remus shrugged it off. "Nothing but a one-night stand. She and Ron were having a fight of sorts and Tonks was being equally stubborn. I moved into her flat for a week, and on the last night she and I were fool enough to think that anybody else would ever replace the ones we loved. It's nothing but a faint memory," he said.

"Wasn't it awkward, she being a former pupil and all?" Sirius asked, tilting his head to the side.

Remus shook his head. "I have never considered her a student, but an equal. Age was nothing but a number between us."

"I can't believe she's actually old enough to get married," he thought to himself, as an afterthought.

"Why is that? She's always acted older than her age," Remus asked. "Yes, but now she's right where she's supposed to be. Do you remember how much she used to scold me? Seemed to think that I was only keen on getting Ron and Harry into trouble or at least leading them into it," he said.

"You certainly have a point there. I think I told you the same thing a few years ago, when you egged Harry on while he attempted to do a handstand on his broom," Remus pointed out.

"Please. Harry would have done it anyway, with or without me in the picture," Sirius scoffed.

"Or when you tried to get Ron to play rugby with Norberta's egg the last time Hagrid brought her over for a visit?"

"That was different, Ron said he was bored!"

"Was Ginny bored when you told her to try and catch a kelpie in the pond a few months back?"

Sirius leaned back, defeated. "So I'm reckless when it comes to these kids. I can't help it Remus, a part of me feels like I didn't get older. To me, they're still the kids I left when I fell through the Veil, not a year older."

"You have to get used to seeing them as adults now Sirius. For heaven's sake, Harry is twenty-five years old, not much older than James when he married Lily!" Remus admonished.

From the distance, a clock chime struck half-past six.

Remus tossed a grey dinner jacket at Sirius. "Put that on. It's time to leave," he said.

Sirius shrugged it on, exuding the spoiled aristocrat he was in every motion. He took in his friend's own black jacket and white shirt ensemble and nodded. "You clean up alright Moony. I reckon Tonks will have a hard time keeping her legs crossed tonight," he grinned roguishly.

Remus could only manage a smile back. "I try. I was hoping to take some of the attention away from you, goodness knows how many pairs of knickers you charmed off by putting that jacket on,"

"Or taking it off," Sirius chuckled, throwing a pinch of Floo powder into the roaring fire.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this chapter, particularly writing the dialogue between Venus and Sirius. Since this story is based on real life, I had imagined a figure from the past coming back to try and talk some sense into one of the players involved in this silly game of hide and not get caught. I hope I did it well though. Do you think Sirius would be too caught up in his plans or would he actually listen to Venus?

See you next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hi guys! Just wanted to say thank you to everybody who has stuck with the story and put in a review. It's so inspiring to read that people appreciate your work and it drives me forward to undiscovered depths of the human experience.

For this chapter, I had the song "I Wanna" by the All-American Rejects in mind. It just speaks of a desperation to want to be with the one you want, which describes perfectly the next encounter with Hermione and Sirius. Enjoy!

Chapter Six – The Perfect Crime

The party was in full swing, the Muggle stereo system cranking out ambient music that randoms could sway in time to and conversations could flow right over. The house was decorated with glittering bouquets of fresh flowers with several real pixies dancing between the delicate lines. Candlesticks were charmed to float in formation above the guests' heads. Several long tables were lined up to accommodate the guests, all former alumnae of Hogwarts. Everybody looked their very best in jewel-toned dresses contrasted against the harsh tones of black and grey of the men's suits.

Dean Thomas wrapped an arm around his loving husband Seamus and continued the story he had been telling:

"Snape gives him detention, gives me the task of watching over him and the rest is history."

Seamus smiled lovingly at Dean. "Every night we take a moment to remember dear Professor Snape, without the likes of which we would never have found true love," he finished. The gaggle of girls that had formed around them sighed on cue as the two shared a short kiss.

Over on the other side of the room, a similar exchange was going on among the boys. Terry Boot had a leg up on a chair, one hand clutching a Steinlager. "I woke up the morning after to see her Chudley Cannon tramp stamp and knew from that moment on that I was going to marry her," he said, looking across the room at Luna.

As Sirius and Remus descended the stairs into the grand ballroom, Sirius could not remember ever seeing his own home look so alive. His mother hardly ever threw parties in the house, and even then they consisted of Dark meetings and conventions that Sirius never wanted part of. The house was always gloomy and dark but tonight it looked alive and festive.

"Sirius, there you are!" Harry said, breaking away from the boys to clap his godfather on the shoulder and hand him a cold beer. "Where have you been?"

"Upstairs, helping him choose an outfit for the evening," Sirius said, with a mischievous grin towards his best friend. Remus shook Harry's hand. "Don't listen to him, he's just jealous. The ballroom looks great Harry, however did Hermione manage this by herself?" he asked.

"Without magic, you mean?" Ron grinned, appearing next to the threesome. "It took actual planning and more research into dinner settings than suits my taste," Harry shuddered.

"All the more reason we should leave things like these to the girls eh?" Remus laughed.

"Where is Hermione by the way?" Sirius asked, having a glance around. He had been looking among the sea of updos and sparkling hair accessories for a familiar bushy head of hair but found none. His heart began pounding in his chest, wondering what tonight's encounter would be like.

"She said that she'd be late, some junk about having to lock up the house. You'd think that for all her magical brilliance, she'd use a Security Spell or something instead of a Muggle alarm system," Harry sighed, shaking his head.

"I tried to talk her out of it, but she said it was necessary to keep the non-wizarding thieves out. As if a good solid toss out the window wasn't deterrent enough," Ron smiled, shaking his head. This was obviously something they had talked about before.

Sirius tuned out of the conversation then, all his attention focused on finding that bushy-haired temptress. A flash of turquoise caught his eye from one side of the room, and his head followed.

Sirius didn't realise his jaw had parted from its mate until he felt himself click his mouth shut.

She was breathtaking. Her dress was a one-shouldered affair that ended above her knees, hugging her curves as intimately as a lover would. Her mahogany brown hair was swept into a low side knot nestled below the curve of her ear. An image of him running his tongue over that very spot flashed through his mind, propelling him to look some more. She was nicely filled-out, none of those pin thin girls he had gotten accustomed to. Her brown eyes were deep and soulful with a glint of intelligence behind them.

"Stunning, isn't she?"

Remus had nudged his side and they were both looking at this vision that had just arrived. "I'd say you're lucky to have skipped the ten years it took to get her like this. It's quite a far cry from when she was still at Hogwarts," the former professor observed

What breath had lodged itself in Sirius' throat reversed itself and escaped in an unbelieving exhale. There was no way in Hell that this was Hermione Granger.

"Better look away, she hates it when you stare," Ron admonished, grinning. Seldom was Sirius ever stunned speechless by a woman. No, they were usually stunned speechless by his entrance into any occasion. She had such a sexy sway to her walk, confident and purposeful. As she walked closer Sirius could see more and more of her. Her face had angled from its youthful contour, leaving her with a lovely heart-shaped face. Her lips had a perfect bow on the top and a full lower lip that reminded him of kisses, both torrid and sensual.

"Sirius, Remus. You're finally here!" she grinned, hugging Remus first then Sirius. He nearly pushed her away at the jolt of electricity that shot through him when they made contact. She fit perfectly into his arms, her softness against the hard muscle. She moved to settle in Ron's embrace, accepting a soft kiss and a smile from him.

"Good. Untangled from the Great Suspension, but feeling good as ever," Sirius said, going straight into lady-killer mode. Remus nudged his friend but bowed slightly. "Allow me to congratulate you and Ronald for Tonks and myself on getting engaged Hermione. I am sure the two of you will be very happy together," he said.

"Thanks Remus, that means a lot," Hermione smiled, and Sirius could not miss the moment of perfect understanding between the two of them. Ron clapped Remus on the shoulder, "Shall we go get a drink, and toast to a happy lifetime in this institution we call marriage?"

Remus chuckled. "Of course, my fellow inmate." They left together, leaving Hermione to shake her head, smiling. "He doesn't mean it of course. Any man would be lucky to even look at you Hermione," Sirius muttered under his breath. Hermione looked up at him, not sure how to respond.

"You look gorgeous my love. That colour suits you," he smiled. She blushed a little bit, but nodded. "You don't look too shabby yourself. That jacket looks good on you."

"Shall we get a drink ourselves?" Sirius asked, putting a hand under her elbow to steer her towards the open bar.

"And drink to what Sirius?" she coyly asked, allowing herself to be steered. He asked for two glasses of Champagne. "To your happy engagement of course. You are happy, aren't you?" he asked, lowering his lips to her ear. The bartender placed two sparkling flutes of the bubbling drink in front of them.

She turned her face to him, but kept her eyes down. "I am, but not sure why." She took one flute and had a dainty sip.

It was all the encouragement Sirius needed, but he kept his excitement down. "Well then," he said, raising his own glass. "A toast, to discoveries," was all he said to her before having a sip himself.

*****

Sirius padded down the hallway, careful not to bring any attention to himself. He was leaving the party for a few moments to breathe, to regroup and to think. So far it had been a roaring success: everybody loved the food, the bar was a long way from dry and everybody had complimented Hermione on the decorations. She should have been ecstatic that her party was such a hit, he thought. Was it just me, or did she have the look of a woman condemned to burning at the stake in her eyes? He wondered. His gaze never let her out of his sight, and he had watched as she flitted from one group of people to another, asking them how they were and readily accepting the congratulations that they pressed on her.

Sirius was falling in love, damn it. Everything that Venus told him had opened his eyes to what his heart already knew. He knew, down to the very marrow in his bones, that Hermione was the one he was destined to spend the rest of his life with. She made him laugh, she infuriated him, and she made him burn. Most of all, she made him want to be a better person, to move past his bitterness at the past and forward to a brighter future. She inspired him, and he knew that it would be a horrendous mistake to let her marry Ron.

The rustle of cloth made his head turn into looking at the supposedly empty powder room. A blade of moonlight streamed into the room and was broken by a silhouetted shoulder. Feminine and graceful. "Is anybody there?" he cautiously asked, lest he was barging in on an intimate moment.

"Just me," Hermione softly answered.

He entered the room and saw Hermione seated on the fainting lounge, legs primly crossed and head tilted slightly to the side. A few curls had tumbled out of the updo and framed her face. "You're missing out on your great party love, what are you doing sitting in the dark?" he asked.

"Thinking – HIC!" she answered, lifting to cover her mouth with her wrist. "I'm sorry, might have had a little bit too much," she said, barely missing the bottle of vodka on the floor when she uncrossed her legs. Sirius was slightly between confused and amused. He had rarely seen Hermione drunk and watching her struggle to maintain a modicum of composure had a grin tickling the side of his mouth.

"And what prompted you to indulge in such a lethal poison?" he asked her. She brushed off her lap and tried to straighten the unruly curls. "Can't think without drinking, can't drink without thinking," was all she managed. Sirius let a chuckle slip out and moved to sit next to her. He discreetly nudged the nearly empty bottle away from her reach with his foot. "Tell me about it. What were you thinking of love?" he asked.

She was quiet but turned her head to answer. "Sirius, are you mad at me?"

Surprising. "No, why on earth would you think that?"

She listed a little to the side in an attempt to look at him dead on. He saw that her eyes were no longer sharp and focused, her lids drooping closed. "'Cause we haven't fucked yet. I know men get riled up because of that."

It was a blessing that it was so dark; otherwise she would have seen the bright red flush on his cheeks. He was rarely caught off-guard; wasn't that his job after all? Hermione had caught him right on the very edge.

"No love," he ground out. "Remember I said that I didn't want to rush you? I meant it. I don't care if it never happens, I want to make sure that you're comfortable with it first," he said. He meant it too. Nothing would be sweeter than Hermione's utter surrender in his arms, especially when it was her decision entirely.

"Then why have you been ignoring me?" she asked pleadingly, like a young girl asking why he never called. He stroked her curls away from her face and regarded her pouting face with tenderness. "I haven't been ignoring you Hermione. In fact, I've been watching you the whole evening. I can't keep my eyes off you," he said.

She didn't reply. "Remember when you said that you wanted Ron to take you to the musical? I had the whole evening planned out for us – silk sheets, champagne and a velvet blindfold. I want our first time to be special," he said. She was positively listing now, mulling over what he had just said. She brought her mouth close to his ear, clumsily, if Sirius said so himself.

"You could have just asked, if that was what the whole thing was about," she purred. It snapped the rest of his self-control but he held on to the very shards of it. "It wouldn't be fair to Ron, wouldn't it?" he growled before turning his head to capture her mouth in a grinding kiss.

Her response was to slowly trace his lips with her tongue and to drape her arms around his neck. Sirius opened his mouth happily and let his tongue play with hers. His hands felt their way around her body, feeling every little curve fit his hand. She was warm, plump flesh and he wanted to devour every inch.

She moaned a little into his mouth, and he tasted her sweet breath with an after note of whiskey. She was intoxicating, and Sirius deepened the kiss. His fingers played with the strap of her dress, pulling the delicate fabric down. His fingers met warmed skin; she wore nothing beneath her dress. He separated momentarily from mouth to caress her neck with warm kisses, kissing a path to her breasts. His tongue came out to gently lap at the erect rose point of her nipple and she arched her back towards him in a strangled cry. His hands held her imprisoned by her arms; she couldn't get away from the pleasure he assailed her with.

"Sirius, stop," she breathed, trying to push his head away. He took another delicate bite, but she pushed him away even harder. "Stop, listen to me," she said, pulling away. Sirius looked up and at her. Her face was flushed and she was breathing heavily. He felt a surge of male pride knowing that he had been the cause of that. "What's wrong sweetheart?" he asked her, nuzzling her neck.

"I want you to take me. No games, nothing. Hard and fast," she ground out, looking up into his eyes. The erection in his trousers twitched, but Sirius tamped it down firmly. "No sweetheart, I want to do this right. If you just come with me, I'll take us back to your flat…" he began, but she smacked him on the chest.

"Do it now, dammit," she hissed, lunging forward to kiss him again. He held her back and stroked her face. "Hermione, no. You deserve to be taken slowly, not quickly like a back-street call girl…"he insisted. It was all true. She deserved, at the very least, a bed. Normally, the idea of doing it in public would have appealed to him, but this was no normal situation. The woman of his dreams was demanding that he take her then and now but he didn't want to treat her so callously. She was drunk too; sober, she would have been more particular.

"Before I change my mind," she said. _Oh stuff it, I'll deal with it in the morning_, he thought before drawing her close and crushing his mouth to hers. Her lips were soft and inviting, and her teeth nipped at his lower lip. "You little minx," he growled into her mouth, where she answered with a soft moan.

His hands reached under her dress to pull off her underwear, only to be met with warm, wet flesh. "Oh gods Hermione, you're naked under this," he breathed, almost with reverence. He parted her slowly, and stroked her sensitive nub with his thumb. Her gasp told him that she liked that move.

"Ruins the line of the dress," was the last thing she said before his wicked fingers plunged in her and found that sweet spot. Her hips moved up and down instinctively while this thumb worked a magic of its own. Sirius could have stopped then and taken her as she demanded but it was too entrancing: her face thrown back and flushed, her mouth a long oval at her speechlessness at the sheer pleasure running through her. He could have gone on forever watching her, but a cry broke through his trance.

"Gods Sirius, I'm coming!" she squeaked, her breath coming faster and faster. He withdrew his fingers and quickly freed his straining erection. Positioning himself at her entrance, he took one more look at her face and while looking straight into her eyes, impaled her on his shaft. It was a joining he had never known before, with each stroke more intense than the one before. He wanted this moment to go on forever but he had to end it or else they might be found out.

He rode her out to her orgasm first, feeling her walls twitch and clamp down on him before riding himself through his own erection. He emptied himself inside her, and he bit down on her shoulder to keep from crying out. They pressed their foreheads against each other as they came down from their shared high.

Moments passed in silence, only broken by the rustle of cloth. "We should get out of here, somebody is going to walk in on us," Hermione said, still breathless. She separated them and began straightening out her dress. Sirius did the same, but then he stopped Hermione and looked her in the eye. "Sweetheart, I promise you. Silk sheets, candlelight and all the time in the world next time," he said, with tenderness in his heart.

"You're such a chick Sirius," she said, a small smile forming. He grinned back. "I know. But you deserve it," he replied.

With one more lipstick check in the mirror, she turned back to look at him. "I wish I did," she said, looking a little bit sad.

Now what on earth did she possibly mean by that?

A/N: Hey guys! So sorry for the long update, I've just flown back to NZ and am currently homeless at the moment. So busy searching for a new flat to live in that I haven't had much time to write lately.

I put a lot of thought into this chapter, because this is a major turning point for their relationship. They finally had sex, but there are obviously issues that Hermione has with the whole encounter. Would you feel the same?


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews guys! I am so honoured to be writing for such an appreciative audience.

I'm sorry this took so long to write, but I am happy to report that I have finally found a beautiful flat in the lovely city of Auckland. It took a while to get settled in, scour Trademe for cheap cutlery and other table things, but now that I am properly seated at my desk and rolling chair, I have churned out this next chapter for you all. Enjoy!

*****

The rain pelted down heavily against the windows , cold and biting against the fireplace-heated glass. Two figures shifted under the thick covers, sheltered by the heavy velvet drapes that lined the four-poster bed. Sirius was lying on his side, watching Hermione doze. It was late in the afternoon, a sudden thunderstorm keeping them both inside and occupied while it raged outside. They had spent the entire afternoon in bed, making love and dozing in between. Hermione had been passionate and wild, crying out and pulling on whatever she could find. Sheets, his hair, the headboard…nothing was spared. He was merciless on his assault on her body, like he was never going to get enough of brushing his lips across her scented skin or caressing all her secret spots with his tongue. This woman was intoxicating, his new favourite drug. She was chocolate truffles and cream, strawberries and champagne.

He nudged Hermione awake with his nose. When she did not stir, he nuzzled her bare shoulder, planting a tender kiss there. "Hermione," he called.

"Mm?"

"Are you there?" he asked her. She stretched and rolled onto her back to look up at Sirius, still drowsy. "Sort of," she said, stroking his chest absentmindedly. He took her hand and kissed it. They didn't say much after that, Hermione's head settled back into the pillow watching the rain fall and Sirius watching her. He snuffled her neck gently, a spot he knew she liked. "You're thinking," he said.

Hermione sat up, pulling the covers around herself. By the glow of the fireplace, Sirius could see the golden hue bounce off her skin. "I love the rain," she sighed, tilting her head to see out the window. Sirius pulled himself up. "Why so?" he asked. She turned her head, but didn't look at him. "It sounds so soothing. Puts you in a trance. Then it's cool and makes you want to cuddle," she smiled.

Sirius grinned with that, and he bent his head down to nuzzle the base of her spine. "I could think," he began, kissing that spot and moving up to the middle of her back. "Of other things," he continued, caressing the skin with his lips before planting another kiss there. "That we could do besides cuddle," he finished, kissing her shoulder. She tilted her head back so that he could access the skin on her neck.

"I think I'd like to find out," she smiled as his lips swept her neck over and over again. He pulled her back down on the bed. He claimed her mouth gently, with none of the urgency that overcame them both hours ago.

She responded with surprise, having never experienced his softer side before. He cradled her head in his hands and drew back to look into her eyes. "Gods Hermione, you're so beautiful," he whispered. A slow smile formed on her face and she kissed him once on the mouth. She let herself be kissed, worshipped slowly. That was what Sirius had found himself revelling in; a bare few months ago she was so reluctant to even let her see her naked and here she was now, a real goddess in her sexuality.

Sirius lifted himself off her and gazed into her eyes. "Wait sweetheart, I have something for you," he whispered. He rolled off and opened a drawer in the bedside table. Hermione raised herself to her elbow to watch him rummage through and pick something out from its depths. He returned to her, something clasped in his hand. He kissed her forehead gently and held out his palm to her.

It was a beautiful bronze brooch. It was a piece that was carved into the shape of two hearts sprinkled with little diamond chips. The pin arched gently into the little clasp on the edge. Hermione gasped and picked it up. "Sirius, what is this?" she asked, in awe of such a gorgeous piece.

"I'd pin it on you, but as there is nothing to attach it to…" he grinned, leaning up to pin it among her unruly curls. "Here will have to do. It looks beautiful on you," he said, looking at her and smiling. Her fingers reached up to touch it.

"Whatever for?" she asked.

He kissed her again. "Come away with me Hermione. I don't ever want to leave you, especially to someone who will not appreciate you in the way that you deserve," he whispered against her lips. It was his heart's most secret desire, and he had spoken it out loud for the very first time.

She didn't reply, just took a breath and exhaled slowly. "What happened to no strings attached?" she said.

He reached over to touch her but the stony look in her eyes made him draw back. "Hermione love, I didn't think that it was possible for me to ever fall in love again. Every woman that I have been with since Venus is meaningless now because you're the one who has shown me that you can love again."

No reply. She stood up and began gathering her clothes quietly. This was the last response that Sirius had in mind. "Where are you going?" he asked, standing up to follow her. "I need to go home and think Sirius, I can't give you an answer right away," she said, avoiding eye contact. "What's there to think about Hermione? I love you, and I swear upon every beat of my heart that I will spend the rest of our lives making you happy," he said, coming over to try and stop her from leaving. Hermione started dressing, not looking at him.

"Sirius," she started, buttoning her blouse and looking at him. "I can't answer you without thinking this through. I've never been impulsive, you know that."

"I can't just up and leave Ron like that. He doesn't deserve that," she said.

"Fuck Ron! He doesn't make you happy, but I swear I will!" Sirius snapped, looming over Hermione.

His outburst startled Hermione but it didn't stop her temper from flaring.

"You don't know anything about us Sirius, I suggest you let me leave right now," she said, standing to face him right on. As Sirius looked down at her he felt a moment of weakness dash through him. Even in his bubbling anger he still thought that she was still the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, with her messy brown hair and kiss-puffed lips.

"Fine. But don't expect me to be crawling after you," he said, brushing her off and walking away to settle back beneath the sheets. "You'll be back, I promise it," he said, arranging himself on his bed, the very image of lofty arrogance.

"Get over yourself Sirius, you're not that fantastic," she snapped, coming over to his side of the bed. He lay there looking at her as she shook an angry finger at him. "You knew that I didn't want to do this and you agreed that it would be without drama. So you just put that jockstrap back on and man up enough to let us both get on with our lives!" she said.

Sirius didn't take that lying down. Literally. He sat up and grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her hard, with all the fieriness and anger he felt. He heard her squeak and then sigh, but in the moment that followed she stiffened. He pushed her away then to stand.

"Fine. Leave then. But the only time I will allow you through the door is when you have made up your decision," he growled at her.

He didn't expect a response; he didn't get one either. Hermione had Apparated herself out of his bedroom following a crack of thunder.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hello guys! Are you still there? I'm so sorry I haven't been updating, I've gotten busy with uni and my new job. I haven't had time to think about this, so I've been writing this slowly but surely. How are you all?

In this chapter we work through the fundamental dynamics of Ron and Hermione's relationship, where we didn't see it before.

Chapter Eight – Tears May Fall

Ron heard Hermione come in through the front door and he put down the sock he was trying to mend manually. "Hermione love, I'm in here," he called over his shoulder. She walked into the kitchen where he was seated at their table. The sight of him tangled in wool and darning implements would have made her smile but she could only manage a half-hearted wobble at the corner of her mouth this time.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "Trying to fix these. Mum said they'd be good for hand and eye coordination but all it's doing is making me impatient," he sighed, smiling as he leaned back into his chair. "Where have you been?" he asked her.

She sank into the nearest chair, head in her hands. "Out and about. Doing stuff," she said, shrugging a shoulder. Ron looked at her carefully then put down the needles. " Something's wrong Hermione. Are you alright?" he asked, reaching a hand out to touch her.

The touch of his fingers on her sinner's skin burned and she batted him away in anger, both at herself and at his unfailing sweetness. "Gods Ron, I don't know what to tell you!" she cried out, standing and running to their room.

She had just settled into the sheets with tears running down her face when she felt the bed dip slowly behind her. Ron ran a slow hand over her neck to clear the mussed up hair there and kissed the skin he had revealed. "Why don't you tell me about what's bothering you hm? Let me in," he said, nuzzling her neck.

What could she tell him? That she was a horrible, cheating bitch that didn't deserve such a loving man? That he would be better off marrying somebody who appreciated him better than she would?

The thought of him getting up and leaving her chilled her. She feared living the rest of her life alone more than anything else in the world, but Ron leaving her was bound to be a close second.

"Was it a bad day at work? You seem to always be in such a mood when you come home, like when Jerry scolds you. Has he been scolding you lately love?"

"No. I'm just distracted by something," she sniffles out, wiping her nose on the edge of a pillow.

"Is it something I can help you with? A colleague who won't leave you alone? A bad burrito?" he asked her.

She shook her head and let out a loud sob. Why couldn't he be a regular man and tell her to get over whatever was eating her? Why did he have to be such a sweetheart?

Ron rested his chin on the side of her arm and wrapped a protective arm around her waist. "What if it's something I can't tell you?" she asks.

"You know you can tell me anything sweetheart. Your problems are mine. We'll sort them out together,"

Hermione rolled so she was on her back and looking up into her fiancee's eyes. They searched hers and didn't break contact when his thumb came up to wipe her tears away.

"Ron, what if I'm not the one you wanted to marry after all? What if this is just us being comfortable, not the fiery relationship it's supposed to be?" she squeaked out.

He went still for a moment. And of all things, a slow smile crept across his face as he stroked the tears away with his thumb. "I don't know about you love, but I like it comfortable. Fiery is fun sometimes, but I think that if it burns too hot we just get burned out too quickly. I see comfortable as a slow smoulder, one that will last us a lifetime. We'll have our hot times too, but right now I'm happy to lie down on our bed most evenings and listen to you. I want to marry you Hermione, and if you want fiery, you know that I'll be very happy to oblige," he said, nuzzling her neck.

She didn't answer, but closed her eyes and let the delicious sensations watch over her. "Why are you so good to me Ron?" she asked him with her eyes still closed.

He whispered against her lips. "There is nothing else I want to be to you my love. I don't care if you don't love me back, I love you enough for the both of us."

He captured her mouth in a glorious kiss, one that echoed his sentiment. She felt herself inhale deeply, and her heart skipped a beat. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and caressing her lips against his.

Ron let out a moan and he pulled her up against him so that she was flush against his chest. "I love you Hermione," she heard him whisper.

She broke the kiss and looked down at his soulful blue eyes. What had she done to deserve such love? Or did she really deserve it?

"Ron, I have to tell you something," she said, taking a deep breath and meeting his eye.

It had been three days since Sirius heard from Hermione. He had tried owling her but they all came back unopened. He tried inviting everybody over for dinner one night just to see if she would turn up, but neither she or Ron had come. He was on the edge, waiting to see what she would decide. Food held no taste, the sun was but a dull glow on the horizon and the evenings were hell without her in them. He needed her, craved her kiss and demanded her touch.

He got out of the chaise he was lounging on to grab something to eat when there was a knock on his study door. It was quiet, tentative, and Sirius found himself bounding to open it.

Ron looked at him from the other side.

"Ron."

"Sirius."

He had no clue what was going on. There was silence.

"Can I talk to you?" Ron asked, his tone civil and even.

Sirius gestured, opening the door and making his way to the sideboard for a quick shot of something strong.

"I know about you and Hermione. She told me a few days ago," Ron said. Sirius quickly downed the shot and tensed. There was no escaping this now, and if he was to go down, he was going to go down like an honourable gentleman.

"I had imagined she told you," he finally manage to gulp out. "But I want you to know that it was my idea. She only agreed because I convinced her, not because she wanted it in the first place."

The admission sounded right in his head. It even sounded justifiable. Verbalised however, it was complete and utter bullshit.

"What were your feelings towards her?" Ron asked, still not giving anything away with his tone.

Sirius rubbed his hand over his chin. "She was the one I could never have. When she was younger I always thought of her as the kid sister I never had, watching out for her and making sure she took care of herself. As she got older I saw her more as the stunning woman she had become rather than the swot I used to have to watch over."

"When she told me that you had gotten engaged I knew that I had to have her. Physically, emotionally, I didn't care. As long as I knew that I had some control over her. Jesus, what a freak I'm turning out to be," he snapped at himself, sitting down to run his fingers through his unwashed hair.

"So you decided that you would try and change her mind about marrying me? That's low Sirius, even for you," Ron said, his tone finally breaking into anger. He sidestepped the lounge and pulled on Sirius' shoulders, forcing the older man to look at him.

"I'm going to ask you again, and I want the truth. What are your intentions towards her?" he said.

Their eyes locked, a battle of strengths between them. There was no telling who would back down, but it sure as hell wasn't going to be Ron.

"I want her to be happy. With you or with me, it doesn't matter. She deserves to be with somebody who will make her happy, somebody who will love her to distraction and will take care of her," he said.

Ron let go of him and paced back. "Do you think she'll be happy with me?" he asked.

It was in that moment that Sirius knew there was no point in lying to Ron. The man was so damn perceptive, he could sense if the slightest thing was off.

"I know that if you let her go she will never love another human being again, much less a low life creep like me," he admitted.

"I won't fight you on the low life creep part," Ron said, flopping down into a chair. For the first time that evening, the younger man showed a crack in his sturdy resolve. "Sirius, she is my life. I love her so much that I would gladly hand her over to you if that made her happy. But she's with me, me! Next to you I look like a drowned rat," he said.

There was no denying it now. Sitting in front of Sirius was the man who was going to love Hermione with all his heart and put her happiness before his own. Sirius knew deep in his heart that he would never be that selfless, not even with Hermione.

"Don't ever feel like you are less than anybody else. I am standing here wishing I was half the man you are now. How you can stand to love somebody that much is beyond me, and we both know that Hermione deserves only the best. She deserves you Ron," Sirius said, walking over and then sitting across Ron.

"However, I am not giving her up without a fight. You have to promise me something," Sirius said. Ron looked at him, surprised. "And what makes you think you are in any position to make demands?"

"Because you know that I can and will kill you if you don't agree. When you stand across her at the altar, you will look into her eyes and tell her that she never has to worry about you losing interest because you love her enough for the two of us," Sirius said, with all the surety in his heart.

A moment passed between the two men, and Ron nodded. "I promise you that and more. More than I will promise Reverend Hedgwick."

Sirius seemed to accept this and nodded. "Good man. Now, I suggest you go home to your lovely fiancé and set the date. I know a certain redheaded sibling of yours would love to take her shopping for her trousseau as soon as possible," he said.

Ron grinned and shook his head. "Of course mate. You know that I still want to kill you right?"

"As surely as I know that you are going to take care of her."

A/N: Hey guys. Thanks so much for sticking with this story so far and for dealing with the irregular updates.

I have since talked to the pair that this story was loosely based on, and they are getting married in July. She never found out about the affair, and he is not at all remorseful for having gotten into it in the first place. I do wish them the best of luck, not because it's tradition but because they will need it.

What do you reckon, that Ron ended up with Hermione instead of Sirius? Some of you may even disown me for making it happen, but why play into the cliché? It's more fun to play with what doesn't happen.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hello lovelies, are you still there? It's been far too long since the last update hasn't it?

I'm on my final semester of university here in Auckland and with hard work and a bit of good luck I will graduate in December. Life has gotten rather hectic with internships, work experience, part time job, et cetera but you will be happy to know that it's because of these things that I found the final push to finish this story.

And so I present to you, after many months, the final chapter of The Deal.

Chapter Nine – You May Kiss The Bride

_There was no denying it now. Sitting in front of Sirius was the man who was going to love Hermione with all his heart and put her happiness before his own. Sirius knew deep in his heart that he would never be that selfless, not even with Hermione. _

"_Don't ever feel like you are less than anybody else. I am standing here wishing I was half the man you are now. How you can stand to love somebody that much is beyond me, and we both know that Hermione deserves only the best. She deserves you Ron," Sirius said, walking over and then sitting across Ron. _

"_However, I am not giving her up without a fight. You have to promise me something," Sirius said. Ron looked at him, surprised. "And what makes you think you are in any position to make demands?" _

"_Because you know that I can and will kill you if you don't agree. When you stand across her at the altar, you will look into her eyes and tell her that she never has to worry about you losing interest because you love her enough for the two of us," Sirius said, with all the surety in his heart. _

However counterintuitive it might have been, rain on your wedding day was a good omen. Ron stood in his bedroom straightening out his bowtie for the millionth time while Harry leapt up and down trying to squeeze into his formal dragon hide shoes.

"Surely it's a crime for the best man to look better than the groom?" Ron nervously joked, sipping a little of the Firewhisky on his bedside table.

"Har har. Ginny got them for me to match the robes, but honestly mate, I think she got them to match her dress," Harry grinned. The shoes were quite stiff and unbending but they looked sharp and since it was his best friend's wedding, who was he to complain?

He stole a glance at Ron. He was looking much better cleaned up, albeit a bit nervous. On the whole, he actually looked rather relaxed for someone who went through what he did.

Right after Ron had confronted Sirius, he had Flooed straight into Harry's London flat. Granted, they'd seen each other in various states of undress during their years at Hogwarts but it was still quite a shock to have Ron suddenly standing in your lounge whilst you were still in a coffee-stained shirt and stripey boxer shorts.

Harry got the whole story out of Ron eventually. At first he didn't believe Ron because Hermione was the most morally upright person he knew. But as Ron relayed more of the story to him he was all the more disbelieving.

"Mate, I love you and Hermione both. But I'm frankly having a hard time seeing any of this as true!" Harry exclaimed.

It was the look in Ron's eyes that turned him around. It was Ron looking absolutely lost, like the very moor he had to the sane world had vanished and left him bobbing restless in rough waters. Hermione had always been Ron's stability, the anchor to his ship. Ron would be lost without her, and that's exactly how he looked now.

"My god," was all Harry could say.

"I spoke to Sirius a while ago and we agreed on what was best for her. You can ask him if you like," Ron said.

Harry was dumbfounded, and then awestruck. He had seen love, yes. He had it with Ginny. But to see a love this selfless and humble, now that was something worth fighting for. At the very moment he felt his anger at Hermione melt away because he knew that she would not be fool enough to pass over this once-in-a-lifetime kind of love, especially when she had failed once to appreciate it.

"Do you have your speech for the reception?" Harry asked, finally lacing up the dragon hide shoes after several tries.

"Not really, no. What do you say to her that she doesn't already know?" Ron asked, showing a little of the nervousness that should have been leaking out of his pores at this very moment.

Harry grinned back at him. "I got this."

Hermione squirmed in her seat as Ginny tried to anchor an elaborate filigree hairpiece onto her curls. The waves had been tamed somewhat with Hermione's hair straightener (which Ginny was extremely fascinated by), but it was only the WonderWitch hair product that kept everything smooth and silky, instead of frizzing out after the first half hour.

Ginny had two bobby pins between her lips as she tried to find a spot where the hairpiece wouldn't slide off. "Maybe you should have used less product?" she mumbled around the pins.

"Maybe I shouldn't be wearing that at all?" Hermione asked, trying not to swat Ginny's hands away.

"Maybe. It was my Aunt Dora's before she died. The only reason I have it is because I was a flower girl at her wedding. But now it just looks like it should be in a museum beside a mummified princess and her entourage," Ginny sighed, putting it down on the dresser.

"Are you nervous?" she asked Hermione.

Maybe nervous wasn't the right word here. Neither was the term "scared shitless". No, Hermione was in knots about the ceremony that would take place in less than half an hour. Three months had passed since that last afternoon with Sirius, and by gods, what a change three months had made.

Ron had left her in their apartment, and had found out from Ginny that he had gone to Sirius and then to Harry. Nobody was willing to believe Ron at first, but as the story unfolded each of them took out their anger and disbelief at Hermione.

She didn't fight any of them of course, because she knew deserved everything they threw at her, verbally and in Ginny's case, literally. That glass snow globe had just missed her forehead but shattered over the wall behind her.

And yet, in a humbling act of love and devotion, Ron had stopped all of them with a stern warning, saying if anyone should be upset it should be him and only him. And that if anyone told Mrs Weasley he would personally make sure they could not be out in public for at least a week.

He had taken them away for a weekend in the countryside to talk, reconnect and work things out. The entire three days took Hermione's breath away when she thought about it now. Ron was nothing but attentive to her, listening to her, holding her when she cried and begged his forgiveness, and on the third night, he took her into his arms and made the sweetest love to her. They had both smiled at each other through tears and nothing in the world could have taken them apart.

She didn't deserve such love. He should have just dropped her right on the spot and walked away to love somebody more worthy. But this was Ron. He was never one to run from a fight or to give up on people he loved. And it was this particular trait that made her swear that she would be true to Ron and only Ron for as long as she lived. Love like this came only once in a lifetime, so far be it from her to let it go.

Hermione still hadn't seen Sirius, but she knew that he would be coming to the ceremony. Ginny was adamant about letting him come, but after she'd seen Ron and Hermione back from their weekend away she was sure Sirius meant nothing to Hermione any longer.

"What about this?" Ginny asked, picking up a little brooch.

It was the filigree heart with diamond chips that Sirius had pinned in Hermione's hair. She had completely forgotten it was still with her. "I think it's a little too small," she said, taking it from Ginny and looking at it. She remembered what a turbulent evening it was, the night she had received it. "And it isn't mine anyway," she said.

Ron stood at the front of the altar, all nerves and cold sweat. Everybody was at the little chapel now, probably fidgeting as much as he was. Hermione was due to arrive any minute now.

He was about to turn around for the nth time when a hushed rustle turned towards the door.

Standing underneath the doorframe, was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. His wife to be.

Hermione was in a simple white dress, a one-shouldered affair with a white flower hairpiece he remembered seeing on Fleur tucked beneath her ear. She had a little bunch of flowers in her hand, and when she looked up from Ginny rearranging her skirts, he could make out teary eyes.

Mr Weasley was giving Hermione away, and Ron could feel a lump of tears catching in his throat. He loved this creature so much, so very much. Nothing in the world was going to take away his love for her.

Sirius turned his head as Hermione walked down the aisle. She was a vision, positively glowing with happiness. His heart started beating a little faster as he watched her come closer, and when she was finally level, she held out her hand to him, palm down. He took it, only to feel her drop something small in his hand.

He knew what it was before he even looked at it. He squeezed her hand once and then let her go. She gave him a small smile and then let Arthur walk her the rest of the way to the front.

As his fingers tightened around the little heart, he watched Ron take Hermione's hand from his father's arm and give her a kiss. Sirius recognised in Ron's eyes that there was nothing more precious to him than the woman in front of him, and he knew he could never get in the middle of that.

The rickety old minister stood in front of a lectern, helped by two or three potion encyclopaedias. He peered at the couple in front of him, and began the service.

"Dearly beloved. We are gathered here this fine morning…"

The Weasleys' garden was a vision with lights sparkling in the trees and golden white canopies over the tables and chairs. Charlie's four-piece jazz band was playing the classics on a stage in front, with Charlie plucking away at the double bass. Some of the female guests were making eyes at the singer and guitarist, who looked like James Dean reined into a suit.

Hermione sat at the bridal table looking absolutely thrilled. The ceremony this morning had gone smoothly, with no hiccups or mistakes. She had allowed Ron to take her hand at the church as he recited the vows his own father and grandfather had said to their own wives, all those years ago.

"_I will love you with all the breath in my body, the strength in my soul and the fibre of my being. You are my perfect mate, and I promise to cherish you until my heart stops beating,"_

It was all she could do to not start bawling in front of the entire congregation.

She had responded with her own vows, a passage from Pride and Prejudice. But it was feeble after what had Ron so ardently promised her.

He didn't seem to mind though. He'd taken her hand and hadn't quite let go since.

"Anything you'd like sweetheart?" Ron asked her, nuzzling her shoulder with his nose.

She turned to face him with a smile. "I would like to dance," she said.

But just before he could usher her out of her seat, Harry (who was playing master of ceremonies) came up to the stage in front.

"May I please call up to the stage, the groom. I'm sure he's got a few words for us all," he said.

Ron turned apologetically to Hermione. "I'll be right back love," he smiled, kissing the top of her head as he made his way to the stage.

When he got there he reached into his jacket pocket for a little piece of paper that Harry and himself had scribbled furiously on this morning.

Everybody had gone quiet to listen in on his speech. Sirius was seated at the bar, tie loosed and collar open a few buttons. He had been nursing a glass of scotch when Ron stepped up to the stage. Throughout the evening, he had watched Ron and Hermione together and knew that something real and pure was between them.

He wasn't angry or jealous. He was simply grateful to Hermione for showing him that there was something much more than frivolous than what he had before. He could have true love for himself, if only he would acknowledge that he deserved it.

Hermione had shown him that you accepted the love that you thought you deserved. By agreeing to their affair, she had felt unworthy of Ron's affections. But when Ron had taken her hand and told her that he still wanted her anyway, she saw through Ron's eyes that she was a person who deserved true love. And by god had it humbled Sirius to think and feel the same way.

One day, he would meet the One and he would step forward and claim her, and never let her go.

Ron had settled himself onstage now in front of the microphone. He had the piece of paper in his hand now, along with a flute of champagne, and anybody within a ten foot vicinity would see that both were shaking.

"My dear Hermione. Today we stood in front of Reverend Woodhall and promised each other a lifetime of love. Who would have thought, that the first time I saw you on the Hogwarts Express in our first year, that I would fall in love and marry the most intelligent witch in our year.

I love that most about you Hermione. You may have tremendous intelligence, but you have an even bigger heart in you. I've asked myself many times if you love with your heart or your brain, because, let's face it, I'm not the most simple guy to deal with. But I've decided that your brain is the shape of a heart. Because nobody else I know thinks with much love as you do.

But I want to make you my own promise, one that nobody else in my family has said yet. Hermione love, I will promise to love you to the point of distraction. I promise to strive to be everything you need and want because you are that person to me. I also promise to let you win every argument, eat the last slice of pizza and choose what kind of cheese to put on my sandwiches.

So raise your glass everyone, to my beautiful wife. May she stay as wonderful as she is now, because she is the sun and moon in my sky. I love you Hermione,"

Sirius raised his glass high and toasted the happy couple. He couldn't mistake however, seeing Ron toast him as well.

Just as the band finished up the chords of "Time After Time" and Ron and Hermione were dancing, Sirius came up to the couple.

"Ron, may I claim one dance with your lovely wife?" he asked. He had to hand it to Ron. Had the roles been reversed, Ron would have already been flat on the ground. But with all the gentility of an aristocrat, he proffered Hermione's hand to him. "I'll get us a drink," Ron said, kissing her on the cheek.

The band started up another song and Sirius took her hand to dance. "You look lovely tonight. I am so happy for you," he said.

Hermione grinned up at him, "Thank you Sirius. I'm so glad you came," she said. "You're lucky to have him Hermione, I am so stupid to think that I could ever come between that. Will you ever forgive me?" he said.

"Only if you promise me that you will deserve happiness and that you will not turn it away when you find it. You are not a lesser man because of what happened; Ron showed me that. You are wonderful Sirius, and you're going to make somebody very happy one day," she smiled.

Sirius' heart swelled at that. He knew right there, in that very moment, that he was going to be all right.

The last of the guests had left and Ron, Hermione and Harry were sprawled on lawn chairs. "That was something else," Harry breathed, his shirt stained with a little red wine after a tipsy Ginny hugged him a little too quickly. She was now curled up in her old room in the house, clutching Harry's jacket.

"I hope there is a reasonable gap between this wedding and the next one because god help me, I cannot help but rearrange dinner settings in my sleep now," Harry breathed.

"Well, unless we can tear Charlie away from his dragons for a moment he might actually find himself a girlfriend," Ron said.

"I actually think Sirius will be next," Hermione said, tapping her feet together.

The boys were quiet. "I have the feeling he'll meet someone new very soon and he will have an even lovelier wedding than we did today," she said, leaning back into the chair and closing her eyes.

The boys looked at each other over her head and shrugged. "Let's just hope it's not too long, I can't handle another linen serviette. Nightcap?" Harry asked.

As he stood to grab a drink, Ron took Hermione's hand. "It's going to be sometime soon, isn't it?" he asked.

She squeezed it and said. "Harry had better keep those fingers nimble, Windermere napkin folds don't hold if they aren't."

THE END

A/N: And here we are dear readers, the end. I cannot express how much this journey with all of you has meant to me. The couple that started this story are happily married now and I wish them all the best.

I was looking through the previous chapters and watched how much the story has evolved along with various parts of my life. Now that this story has come to its close, I am about to close another chapter, my university life. I am also glad this story ended when it did, because I've gained the life experience to be able to push the story forward with a much clearer understanding.

Thank you to everyone who has stayed loyal to this story. It humbles me when reviewers who have stayed on since the beginning pop up once in a while, and for that I am grateful. Thank you for the encouraging words and the input, and for the smiles you bring. This writer is forever indebted to every single one of you.

This chapter is dedicated to my boyfriend, who showed me that when you accept the love you feel you deserve, you either cheat yourself of the chance to know happiness or you open yourself up to a whole new world of joy. Luckily, it's the latter so K, thank you. Thanks for letting me choose the cheese when we go grocery shopping.

Love to you all!

MR Potter


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